


The Cheerio and The Quarterback

by kaitlia777



Category: Glee
Genre: Blaine is an awesome little badass, Blow Jobs, Hand Jobs, M/M, Sam is a sweetiepie, Underage Sex, cheerio!Blaine, quarterback!Sam, some homophobic language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-01
Updated: 2013-01-01
Packaged: 2017-11-23 04:20:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/618010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaitlia777/pseuds/kaitlia777
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inspired by cheerioblaineanderbooty’s awesome gifset (http://cheerioblaineanderbooty.tumblr.com/post/39252388490/au-blam-as-mckinleys-power-couple ), which I saw and then felt a need to write Cheerio!Blaine/Quarterback!Sam.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Cheerio and The Quarterback

**Author's Note:**

> AU – During Swan Song, Sam and Brittany don't happen and Kurt and Blaine officially broke up during the Break Up episode. It also assumes that Sam is on the football team senior year, though I don't think it's been mentioned on the show.

“So, the Cheerios, huh?”

Stuffing his books into his locker, Blaine turned to face Sam with a shrug. “Without glee, I needed another activity,” he replied, then reached out and gave a soft tug on Sam's letterman jacket. “You've got football to keep you busy…at least until the season's over.”

“We're not that bad,” Sam protested with a laugh, then grimaced. “Okay, yeah, we're pretty bad. Maybe some awesome new cheerleaders will be the push we need to reach greatness again.”

Blaine snorted. “Somehow, I don't think the guys on the team will be interested in my support. Tina’s sure, but….”

“Don't sell yourself short, Dude,” Sam said, clapping him on the back. “You're working that uniform.”

“It's polyester,” Blaine replied woefully, looking down at himself and trying to hide his smile. Straight or not, it was always nice to hear a handsome boy tell him he looked nice. “You think it looks okay?”

“Totally,” Sam assured him, slinging a friendly arm around his shoulders. “Want to go grab a pizza?”

As Coach Sylvester seemed to frown upon Cheerios eating solid food on school grounds, he nodded enthusiastically. “Dear Lord, yes!”

* * *

The next day, during mandatory Cheerio hula hoop time, Blaine's phone buzzed. He was surprised to see the text from Sebastian that read: _You and Blondie? Really?_

After that cryptic comment, there was a link to Jacob Ben Israel’s blog, which, apparently, Sebastian was stalking. That wasn't too weird. Curiosity overrode Blaine’s usual reluctance to have anything to do with the rumors Jacob spread, as he was even more creepy than Sebastian.

The story that popped up, complete with pictures and gifs, made Blaine freeze made hula.

_**McKinley High’s New Power Couple?**  
It has come to the attention of this blogger that the relationship between senior class president/newly appointed Cheerio Blaine Anderson and vice president/Titans quarterback Sam Evans maybe a little more than friendly. The pair were spotted last night, sharing a cozy meal and chatting quite intimately…._

“Young Burt Reynolds, you had better get your tight little ass in gear or so help me, Becky will hit you with the encouragement stick!”

The threat from Coach Sylvester was enough to startle Blaine, who scooped up his hula hoop and glanced over at Becky…who was gleefully wielding a small cattle prod.

That had to be against some school policy, possibly a few laws as well.

Oh well, only another hour….

* * *

As soon as they were released, Blaine hurried over to the football field as fast as his aching abs would allow. Hula hooping was apparently a very effective core workout.

Football practice had just ended and Blaine ignore the looks several of the players tossed his way as he hurried over to where Sam was talking with Jake and Ryder.

“Have you seen Jacob Ben Israel’s blog?” he asked without preamble, brandishing his phone in case Sam hadn't.

The blonde rolled his eyes. “Yeah, some of the guys made sure I saw it.”

Blaine cringed. “I'm so sorry….”

“Why? It's not your fault Jacob posted it or that most my teammates are morons,” Sam said, sounding reasonable and not as upset as Blaine had feared (Sure, Sam wasn't homophobic, but this was a bit much). His eyes ticked to something over Blaine's shoulder and his expression morphed into an odd mixture of annoyance and amusement. “Really, guys? Really?”

Glancing over to where a few football players were lingering, Blaine saw one guy grabbing another and mock humping him. The humper seemed to find this hysterical, the humpee not so much.

Jake rolled his eyes and thumped Ryder on the shoulder. “C’mon, let's go shower up and try to figure out if anyone could be a problem or just, you know, typical shit.”

As the two younger boys wandered off, Blaine looked up at Sam. “You’re taking this well.”

He shrugged. “Yeah, well, I've learned not to care what people think. Besides, it's not like this is something to be offended about. You're pretty great catch.”

Unable to help himself, Blaine laughed. “You're not exactly chopped liver. If only you were gay, I'd be inclined not to correct Jacob.”

Sam blinked, pensive for a second. “I'm not gay,” he agreed, then uttered two words that caused Blaine's worldview to tilt slightly. “I'm bisexual.”

“What?” Blaine blurted, completely shocked by that revelation. “I…did not know that.”

Again, Sam shrugged. “It's just a part of who I am, was never really relevant…no, I did date a guy in Kentucky, so it was relevant then, but not here until….”

Something in Blaine's chest jumped a little. “Until what?”

Sam's cheeks were flushed with more than lingering exertion from practice. “I suck at relationships, never seem to know what to say and they always fall too hard, too fast,” he said, shifting from foot to foot, “But I guess I just have to cowboy up here. I like you. A lot.”

“You like me,” Blaine echoed, surprised but more than a little pleased. “Like….”

“Like I want to ask you out and get to know you, except I already do know you, which is better, so I want to hold your hand and kiss you in addition to all the stuff we already do,” Sam rambled, then grinned. “Also, I wasn't lying when I said you look awesome in your Cheerios uniform.”

Blaine didn't know how hard he was smiling until he felt the pull at his cheeks. “I'd like that too,” he said, reaching out and grabbing Sam's hand in his own, ignoring the dirt and grass stains.

That night, over homework, Sam kissed him, sweet and soft and full of promise.

There were definitely some stares in the halls over the next several days, some surprised expressions and a few frowns, but surprisingly little open hostility. There wasn't even a real uptick in Slushee assaults, though Blaine attributed some of that to the fact that Coach Sylvester had made her stance on bullying publicly known.

Even the alpha bullies were willing to risk being castrated and having their balls tanned and nailed to the wall as a warning to all mouth breathing idiots who thought they were tough.

Sometimes crazy and evil worked in their favor. Not often, but occasionally.

“I feel like they're waiting for me to, like, grab your ass right here in the hall or something,” Sam murmured, pulling books out of his locker and dropping them into his backpack as they tried to ignore curious students.

Blaine smiled a little. “Grab my ass? Think about that often?”

Sam flushed. “Sometimes…and those Cheerio pants are…clingy.”

Feeling devilish, empowered by the knowledge that Sam, sweet, kind, stunning Sam, thought about him like that, Blaine leaned in close and murmured, “I know. It took a few tries before I realized underwear just wasn't an option.”

At his words, Sam went still, eyes running up and down Blaine's frame. “Seriously? You're not wearing any…?”

“Just an athletic support.”

Though he didn't grab his ass, Sam's hand did land on the small of Blaine’s back, the other cupping his jaw, tilting his head up for a kiss. Blaine grabbed the front of Sam's jacket, pulling him down as the taller boy crowded him against the locker. 

“All right, break it up, you hormone saturated acne factories. No one wants to witness your preliminary….”

Coach Sylvester's voice was the equivalent of having ice water dumped onto their crotches, so neither Sam nor Blaine had to worry as they hopped apart, red-faced, to stare at the scowling coach.

She seemed utterly shocked. “Lips? Young Burt Reynolds? Am I to believe that the story on the blog of that walking sweat gland is not complete drivel?”

Glancing at Sam, Blaine smiled. “Yes, Coach.”

“Huh,” she said contemplatively, then jabbed a finger at Sam. “What exactly do you do on the football team? Do you play, or do you simply clean the footballs with that gaping maw you call a mouth?”

Sam blinked. “I'm the quarterback.”

“Really?” That actually made her smile. It was scary. “Well, then some semblance of order has been restored to the world, the quarterback and a Cheerio. Carry on.”

With that, she swept off, not even hip checking anyone into a locker.

A few students cast glances at Sam and Blaine (to be expected after their brief kiss against the lockers), but now that Sylvester had openly approved of them, it would take a particular brand of stupid to try anything.

Unfortunately, one could always count on the hockey team to provide stupid.

“Jeeze, how desperate is the football team, letting a fuckin’ pillow biter on the team?” Dumas sneered, two of his lackeys chortling at his supposed cleverness.

Sam glared. “Oh, right, we still have a hockey team. I forgot, since they haven't won a game in years.”

Dumas’s grin (missing two teeth) fell and he gave Sam a shove. “At least I'm not a fag.”

“No, just a bigoted loser,” Blaine snapped, stepping forward and glaring up at the much bigger boy. “Just back the hell off.”

“Or what?” the hockey player said, condescension dripping off every word. “Gonna have your boyfriend try to beat us up?”

He and his cronies shared a laugh and Blaine simply rolled his neck. “No, actually, I'll be the one kicking your asses and you'll have to live with having everyone know that the little, gay cheerleader white the floor with all of you.”

Something about the deadly calm tone of his voice managed to penetrate the perpetual haze of stupid and head injuries that surrounded the hockey jocks and they actually looked explain for the first time. They were clearly surprised and Blaine pressed his advantage. “What? You think you're the first overgrown asshole to hassle me? Hell no. Which is why I learned how to deal with people like you. Don't worry, I'm nicer than you, so I'll try not to break too many bones.”

Grumbling, the hockey players slunk off, muttering vague, bravado laden words.

Flushed and grinning with the pride of having driven off the jocks, Blaine was startled when Sam grabbed his hand and began towing him down the hall. As a passed her, Sugar threw them a thumbs-up, though they didn't stop long enough to chat.

Blaine had no idea why Sam hauled him into the costume shop. Then he heard the click of the door lock and he felt the tingle of anticipation, just before Sam was on him, pressing hot, open mouthed kisses to his lips. Grabbing at him, Blaine eagerly returned the attention nipping at Sam. “Not that I'm complaining,” he gasped when Sam moved to his jaw, mouthing a path to the spot below Blaine's ear that made him shudder, “But what…Oh God!”

Sam moved his leg, slotting his knee between Blaine’s thighs and creating a delicious friction that had Blaine rocking against him. “What, I can't think my boyfriend is super sexy, facing down those jerks without breaking a sweat. I feel so safe.”

There was teasing him his tone, but it was also clear he had found Blaine's display of dominance honestly hot. “Well, yeah, someone's gotta put those guys in their place, right?”

Humming a little, Sam wet his lips and dropped to his knees, peering up at Blaine. “Can I…?” he asked, hands reaching up to grip the waistline of Blaine's pants.

Voice caught in his throat, Blaine could only nod eagerly and bury his hands in Sam's hair as the blonde yanked both the pants and jock strap down around his thighs, letting his cock spring free.

It was the first time they'd done this, the first time there had been clothes between them and Blaine moaned when Sam wrapped his hand around him and gave several long, languid strokes, thumb rubbing swipes over the sensitive head.

“Sam,” Blaine breathed, voice wavering. Sam's golden lashes fluttered as his eyes fell, concentrating as he lowered his mouth onto Blaine’s cock. “Oh, fuck….”

Normally, Blaine tried not to curse, but there was really no other response as Sam let his jaw go slack, mouth slick and hot, cheeks hollowing to create absolutely mind wrecking suction. It was intense and incredible and Blaine took a few moments to figure out exactly what Sam was doing, grabbing at his hips and tugging, encouraging him to move.

Hanging onto the thin threads of his restraint, Blaine let his hips hitch forward slightly, sliding further into Sam's mouth and making the other boy sputter a little. He took it though, wide eyes turned up to meet Blaine’s encouraging even when Blaine realized he was butting up against the back of Sam's throat.

“Oh God, Sam…that’s incredible, so fucking good…” He moaned, trailing off as his hands scrambled for purchase on Sam's shoulder, his hair, anything to keep himself steady as Sam seemed intent on sucking his bones right out of his body. The first ripples of orgasm hit hard and he fought to keep his eyes on Sam, fought against the urge to toss his head back and moan with abandon.

Sam made a low, desperate sound, throat working around Blaine and that was it. Blaine came hard, stars exploding behind his eyes as Sam swallowed repeatedly, hands clenching and Blaine's ass, pulling him closer and supporting him.

Eventually, Sam pulled free with an obscenely wet pop and worked his jaw. His lips were red and wet, a trickle of cum escaping the corner of his mouth and he looked so debauched that Blaine just had to groan, tugging weakly at Sam’s shoulders, urging him to his feet.

He managed it, a little shaky, and dove in for a kiss, wet and sloppy. Blaine could taste himself, the salty tang heavy on Sam's tongue. Sam hadn't come yet, hips thrusting his rigid shaft against Blaine’s lower belly as they kissed and he gasped when Blaine popped his jeans open and plunged a hand inside.

Sam choked a bit, arching into his touch, latching onto Blaine's neck and sucking hard as Blaine began to move his hand, touch light in deference to lack of lubrication. From the way, Sam was moving, Blaine was fairly sure the rough friction hadn't registered, but he was glad to find a healthy drop of pre-cum when he swept his thumb over the tip of Sam's cock. Smearing it around ease the way a bit and he up his pace.

Clearly near the edge, it didn't take long before Sam went rigid, spilling over Blaine's hand, clutching him close as he shuddered and gasped. A bit of cum splattered into Sam's boxers, but most covered Blaine's fist, so he carefully eased his hand free.

“Wow,” Sam breathe, blinking glazed eyes at Blaine. “That was awesome.”

“Amazing,” Blaine agreed, then looked down at his cum covered hand. Watching Sam carefully, he raised his palm and licked it clean.

Sam's mouth dropped open and he groaned. “Shit. I didn't even know that could be hot.”

“Speaking of hot,” Blaine murmured, brushing a thumb over Sam's lower lip, “I’d ask you where you learned that, but I think I'd be jealous.”

“No need,” Sam replied, nipping at the offered thumb. “Once you wade through a bunch of truly horrific stuff, the Internet does have a lot of useful information.”

Blaine grinned. “You learned how to give a blow job online?”

“There are websites, fan fiction…and Brittany dragged me off yesterday to have a really terrifying conversation over Skype with Santana. Good information, lots of insults, but I kind of ran out when Brittany whipped out the props…Don’t laugh!”

It was really impossible not to. “Oh, come on Sam! Look at it from my point of view.”

Sam raised a brow. “Like you wouldn't try to make an escape if Brittany started waving a…sex toy in your face?”

Biting his lip, Blaine said, “Okay, okay, sorry,” though the idea of Brittany pulling out a dildo for educational purposes was amusing. Sam was still pouting, so Blaine leaned up and pressed a kiss to his lips. “We should probably clean up a bit.”

It only took a few moments to right their clothes and, as they were finishing, their phones buzzed.

Finn had e-mailed, trying to rally the disbanded glee club and calling for them all to meet at the outdoor cafeteria. The letter was heartfelt and clearly honest and Blaine looked at Sam. Without saying anything, they nodded, knowing they would go.

When they arrived, Finn and Marley were singing Don’t Dream It’s Over and, arriving in small groups, the entire glee club showed up to join in. 

Maybe they wouldn't be competing anymore, but they could still sing together, still have fun. It would all be okay.

Without competition to obsess over, Blaine remained on the Cheerios, cheering the football team and Sam on to victory (and getting to go to National’s with the Cheerios himself). It was a high school cliché Blaine had never imagined being a part of, the quarterback/cheerleader couple.

Years later, they looked back at a copy of Jacob's blog and grinned. The gross little rumormonger had been right for once. Premature, but 100% right in predicting that they would become the school's new power couple…one that survived high school and beyond.

* * *

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